


Fire and Ice.

by orphan_account



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Cabins, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 14:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Maxwell and Zlatan spent the days after Christmas in their cabin up in the woods in Sweden.Maxwell hates the cold though...





	Fire and Ice.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from Tumblr. 
> 
> Writing this reminded me how much I love to write these two together, in all sort of ways. As a couple, as a brotp, or as a platonic marriage. I just always enjoy writing Maxtan. It's still one of the most beautiful friendships in football for me. 
> 
> Give it a read and let me know what you think.

_Sweden_.

 

 

 

Maxwell was shivering away on Zlatan's old, navy couch. Not just a little but uncontrollably. He was wearing Zlatan's favorite, thick, oversized Pirlo hoodie over his two sweaters, his thermo socks and he was _still_ freezing his ass off. It was minus ten degrees Celcius outside and temperature was still dropping as the snows kept falling from the heavens.

Winter had always been his least favorite season ever since he moved to Europe.  
Though he liked Christmas, the Swedish cold just didn't suit him.

It was just his luck that he had a lifelong relationship with a cold blooded man like Zlatan, who hated the heat and lived up in the winter. Zlatan was like a little child when they were in Sweden during the winter season.  
He wanted to spent all day outside, snowboarding, riding his snow-scooter, taking hikes or going on a husky sleigh ride. Maxwell's idea of vacation was lounging at the beach in Rio, Brazil.

Not freezing to death in some old cabin that Zlatan bought for them years ago, in the middle of nowhere. There was only one fireplace in the cabin and Zlatan just loved chopping his own wood. Usually he wasn't that fond of manual labor but doing manly outdoor things were those rare times where Zlatan actually loved to roll up his sleeves and get to work.

He had always been such a _complex_ guy. On one hand he loved his luxurious lifestyle but every now and then when he would get bored of it, he would take Maxwell back to this cabin to, well Maxwell wasn't exactly sure why if he was honest.  
Maybe to remember where he came from, though Zlatan didn't grow up in the woods, he was raised in a poor neighborhood in Rosengard. Maxwell knew he came here for a reason but even after twelve years he could only guess to what it was.

Zlatan had bought this house as a retreat for himself and Maxwell, so they would have a place of complete privacy where the press couldn't reach them and their relationship could remain hidden as Maxwell knew was important to Zlatan.  
He had it in his mind that famous players like himself couldn't afford it to be gay. Maxwell disagreed but never fought his decision, knowing that Zlatan would never budge on this point anywhere so why bother. He didn't like fighting with his partner, luckily they seldom ever fought.

As darkness set in he saw a tall, hooded figure returning from the window. The door creaked open and Zlatan stepped inside, carrying an armful of logs for the fire. The axe he always left outside, because Maxwell argued that inside it wasn't safe. ''I'm home!'' Zlatan cried out, unnecessarily.

As if Maxwell hadn't recognized him, even in the growing darkness. ''Yes I can see that,'' he replied dryly.

''You're pale- _and_ grumpy- _and_ wearing my hoodie again,'' Zlatan noticed. He dumped the logs beside the fireplace and knelt in front of Maxwell, placing a freezing hand to his cheek. ''Jesus, why can't you just wear gloves like any other normal person?!'' Maxwell yelped.

''Because as you always remind me: I'm not a normal person. Besides gloves are for pussy's,'' Zlatan retorted with a big grin. He ruffled his hand through Maxwell's hair and winked. ''Oh and my hand is about as warm as your cheek,''

''Well it is freaking _freezing_ in here and _someone_ -I'll not call names-forgot the chop firewood yesterday!''  
Zlatan snorted. ''Hmm yes maybe it's best not to call names,''

Maxwell rolled his eyes at him. ''Would you _please_ just throw those logs in the fire, the bloody thing has been dying for a while now and I need heat! Now!''  
Zlatan pursed his lips together, which told Maxwell that he was debating to retaliate with a smart remark but surprisingly he swallowed it and obeyed for once. He skillfully built a perfect pyre with the freshly cut wood and blew on it to create beautiful orange flames.

Zlatan had a knack for this, Maxwell had to admit.  
He was one of those people who had spent his entire childhood pulling pranks and mischief but on days like these that ''training'' paid off. Zlatan had built fires since he was eleven.  
Maxwell didn't particularly like fire, he was more a water type of person. He liked the ocean and going for swims. Fire was too unpredictable for him, too dangerous. Consuming.

The heat quickly spread over the living room. The cabin only had one floor, there was a giant box spring bed near the fireplace and a dining table, combined with a tiny kitchen. It wasn't big and it only had one hearth, but when it was warm it was cozy and to Maxwell it felt like home.

They had shared some amazing memories in ''their'' house. It was the only place on the planet where they could be together, openly, without any consequences. They came here in the summer too, and went for swims in the lake that was a few meters away.

''What do you want for dinner?'' Zlatan called out from the kitchen area as he was washing his hands. ''I don't care, right now all I want is heat. Come here,'' Maxwell pleaded. Zlatan smiled gently, the type of sincere, heartfelt smile that he saved only for Maxwell.  
Even after all those years gestures like that warmed Maxwell's heart.

Zlatan walked to the bed, tore their thick blanket off and slid behind Maxwell on the couch, covering the both of them with the soft fabric. He wrapped his arms around Maxwell and pulled him in close.

Maxwell liked to sit with his back against Zlatan's front for reading but right now he wanted more. He turned around and buried his face against Zlatan's chest. His nose was brushing against Zlatan's warm chin.

Zlatan was always warm like a furnace, even when it was snowing outside. His strong arms came around Maxwell and their legs tangled together.

Zlatan leaned in and kissed Maxwell deep and intense, as he did with everything in life. Maxwell felt his head spinning and his soul craving for more. He enlaced their fingers together for more heath, more contact, more depth.  
More was good. There was nothing like a steamy kiss to heat you up after a day of ploughing through the merciless snows of Sweden.

When Zlatan finally pulled back, Maxwell groaned discontent. He was nowhere near done receiving warmth. ''I have something for you,'' Zlatan murmured. ''You know Christmas has been over for five days right?'' Maxwell joked.

''I know that Max, but I wanted to give you something for...you know,'' Zlatan admitted shyly.  
Okay something had to be wrong if Zlatan was actually awkward about it, he was never shy about anything.

He fished out his iPhone scrolled through some things and revealed the screen to Maxwell. It had an airline page on it. With the outgoing date of two days from now. To Rio de Janeiro.

''You're going _home_ Max,'' Zlatan smirked. ''Two tickets to Rio, back to our favorite luxurious hotel at the Copacabana beach,''

Maxwell was nearly too stunned to speak. Zlatan did nice things for him obviously, but this was nearly too much. ''We're going for nine days,'' Zlatan said when Maxwell remained silent, his jaw slightly faltered.

''Did I-do something wrong? Aren't you happy that-'' Zlatan asked after a long silence had filled the air. ''No! It's just-well you _hate_ the heat,''

''Yes and you hate the cold, and yet you come here with me every year. Figured I should repay that favor sometime, now is that time Max,''  
''But we've only been in Brazil a handful of times together,''

''Yes, and was a real dick move on my part. I should have gone there with you more often. I was being selfish. I'm sorry,''  
Maxwell was unsure how to react to that.

Zlatan always had a way of leaving you speechless. Just when he thought he knew all about his partner, he pulled something like this out of his hat.

It certainly kept their relationship interesting, but to Maxwell Zlatan would always remain a mystery. Which was a good thing, for most of the time.

Maxwell plastered his lips to Zlatan's and felt his partner relax under his affection. ''Thank you, it means the world to me. It's very sweet of you,'' he finally managed to choke out. He was so happy to be going back to the warmth of his country. Maxwell missed Brazil all the time, as if air was missing from his lungs.

They had never truly discussed what they were going to do when their careers would be over and they would retire. Where they would live. Zlatan would never be able to live in Brazil full-time and Maxwell couldn't live in Sweden for the rest of his life.  
It would be a puzzle to create a way out of that maze. All Maxwell knew was that he wasn't willing to give Zlatan up. He was the love of his life. They would figure something out. They always did. Some form of compromise.

''You're welcome, I should have gone with you more often. I'm sor-''

''No, stop saying that. I get it. Being in the heat makes you physically miserable, I have the same effect in the cold. Remember when we played for Ajax? Those Dutch summers were insane, even to me it was almost unbearable,''

''Don't remind me, the air was so humid I thought it would kill me,''  
''I know,''

''Max?''  
''Hmm?''

''Where are we going to live when we retire?'' Zlatan always had a knack for reading Maxwell's mind. Or maybe just his mood. Or both.  
''I don't know. I was just thinking about that,''

''I know you were, I could tell by your face,''  
''We'll compromise,''

''I don't wanna lose you,''

''Hey,'' Maxwell cupped Zlatan's face firmly in his hands and locked their eyes together. ''You won't lose me... _ever_. I promise. I would rather spend a lifetime freezing here in Sweden with you than being all alone in the warmth of Brazil. I love my country, but without you it all means nothing. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me and that is a promise,''

Zlatan kissed his forehead. For a split second Maxwell thought he saw a tear shine in his partner's eye. But before he could ask it was gone. ''I love you,'' Zlatan said instead.

Maxwell let his tear slip free, knowing that Zlatan wouldn't judge him for it.

He had always carried his heart up his sleeve. ''I love you too. Always,''

 

 

 

 

 

_The End._

**Author's Note:**

> So did you like it? I love to hear your thoughts.


End file.
